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In this July 8, 2018 photo, grass and nettles grow up around a row of abandoned, dilapidated cottages in the “ghost village” of Tyneham, in Dorset, England. The tiny settlement was evacuated on War Department orders in 1943, to provide more land for training ahead of D-Day in World War II. The people were never allowed to return, and it remains in military hands. Visitors are allowed in most weekends to see what is a poignant reminder of the days of WWII. (AP Photo/Jerry Harmer)
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By JERRY HARMER, AP
TYNEHAM, England
Explore Britain’s southern coast carefully enough and you can still find relics of the dark years when the country awaited Nazi invasion: abandoned radar stations; tank-traps lost in farmers’ fields; half-hidden concrete bunkers overlooking wide, shingle beaches.
Then there’s Tyneham.
The first glimpse of this tiny Dorset village is from the long, steep road that takes you from sweeping views of the coast down into a small, wooded valley. At its bottom, Tyneham peeps out from behind a cloak of trees.
Or rather, what’s left of it.
“This is like Pompeii!” my young son exclaims, as we stand in front of what had once clearly been a row of cottages.
But now only the shells remain. No doors. No windows. No roofs. He’s right. Baking in a Mediterranean-like heatwave, the ruins do have the feel of an archaeological site, an ancient settlement that had met an apocalyptic end.
And in a way, that’s exactly what happened to Tyneham.
Its roots stretch back before that great watershed of British history, the Norman Conquest of 1066. For more than a thousand years, its residents had eked out a precarious living from land and nearby sea.
Then, one day, its long, unremarkable history stopped dead.
It was late 1943 and the tide of the Second World War was turning. D-Day was barely six months away. The British military urgently needed more land for tank training and maneuvers. With a large base nearby, already, its eyes quickly and easily fell on the quiet settlement by the sea.
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In this July 8, 2018 photo, two visitors pause close to an information board outside a row of ruined cottages in Tyneham, Dorset, south-west England. The residents of the tiny village were compulsorily evacuated in late 1943 to provide extra land for military training, ahead of D-Day, and were never allowed back. In the years since, their homes have fallen apart as weather has rotted the timbers and nature has reclaimed the land. Tyneham is still in military hands but it is open to visitors most weekends. (AP Photo/Jerry Harmer)
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In November, that year, residents received letters from the War Department ordering them to leave within a month. The note assured them this was “in the National Interest” and hoped they would make this “no small sacrifice” with “a good heart”.
Within weeks they had packed up and left their lush Dorset valley. They’d lived with the dread of German invasion for four years, but the army that actually made them refugees was their own.
As they departed, one of them pinned a note to the church door:
“Please treat the church and houses with care ... We will return one day and thank you for treating the village kindly.”
Since then, the roofs and upper floors have collapsed; the doors and windows fallen out. Trees, grass, and weeds reclaimed the land. But the people never did. What was said to be temporary became permanent. The land still belongs to the Ministry of Defense — signs on the approach road remind you of that — but most weekends the tanks and guns fall silent, and the public is allowed in.
Within weeks they had packed up and left their lush Dorset valley. They’d lived with the dread of German invasion for four years, but the army that actually made them refugees was their own.
As they departed, one of them pinned a note to the church door:
“Please treat the church and houses with care ... We will return one day and thank you for treating the village kindly.”
Since then, the roofs and upper floors have collapsed; the doors and windows fallen out. Trees, grass, and weeds reclaimed the land. But the people never did. What was said to be temporary became permanent. The land still belongs to the Ministry of Defense — signs on the approach road remind you of that — but most weekends the tanks and guns fall silent, and the public is allowed in.
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In this July 8, 2018 photo, a British Ministry of Defense sign warns visitors that they are on a firing range near Dorset, England. The adjacent road leads to Tyneham, a village which was ordered evacuated in 1943 to provide extra land for military exercises, ahead of D-Day. The people have never been allowed back and the village remains in the hands of the military and has become a tourist attraction, providing a poignant and unusual reminder of World War II. (AP Photo/Jerry Harmer)
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It may be small — more hamlet than village — but a visit is utterly absorbing. As you pass down the rows of hollowed-out cottages, unobtrusive display boards show sepia photographs of how they used to look and who lived there, and tell you what they did — postmistress, farmer, gardener — allowing your mind to people the ruins with flesh and blood.
The schoolhouse has been restored to look exactly as it would have, in the early 20th century, and St. Mary’s church has been carefully maintained. But everything else has been laid low by time, and that’s what draws you in.
We wander down shaded village tracks, from The Row to Rectory Cottages, then picnic beside a sun-bleached, stone skeleton that was once home to the Taylor family, who washed the village’s clothing till the fateful letter landed on their doormat. Butterflies flit from thistle to nettle and the blinding sunshine throws deep shadows across the ruins.
“It makes you realize how hard life was in those days,” says Dorset resident, Linda Bryan, 70, looking at Laundry Cottages. “How sad they had to move out. I wonder where they went?”
The schoolhouse has been restored to look exactly as it would have, in the early 20th century, and St. Mary’s church has been carefully maintained. But everything else has been laid low by time, and that’s what draws you in.
We wander down shaded village tracks, from The Row to Rectory Cottages, then picnic beside a sun-bleached, stone skeleton that was once home to the Taylor family, who washed the village’s clothing till the fateful letter landed on their doormat. Butterflies flit from thistle to nettle and the blinding sunshine throws deep shadows across the ruins.
“It makes you realize how hard life was in those days,” says Dorset resident, Linda Bryan, 70, looking at Laundry Cottages. “How sad they had to move out. I wonder where they went?”
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This July 8, 2018 photo, shows the remains of a fireplace and a missing window, in a ruined cottage in Tyneham, in Dorset, England. The village was commandeered by the military in 1943 and the people evacuated. They were never allowed back and Tyneham remains in the hands of the Ministry of Defense. The village dwellings have slowly fallen apart, as waether rotted the roof beams and upper floors and nature reclaimed the interiors. (AP Photo/Jerry Harmer)
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Her niece, Lesly-Anne Meader, 60, from nearby Hampshire, is on her first visit.
“It’s very evocative. You can see all the people living here,” she says. “I like ghost stories.”
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If You Go...
TYNEHAM: Located about a three-hour drive from London, close to the southwest coast, roughly between Lulworth and Corfe, in the county of Dorset. There is signposting close to the village but it is minimal and easily missed. Even a GPS will only put you in the general location. It is not served by public transport. Open most weekends and public holidays, though it is best to check by calling (44)-1929-404819 for a recorded message giving current information. Parking is free though a donation of 2 pounds is suggested. There is no shop, toilets or visitor center.
“It’s very evocative. You can see all the people living here,” she says. “I like ghost stories.”
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If You Go...
TYNEHAM: Located about a three-hour drive from London, close to the southwest coast, roughly between Lulworth and Corfe, in the county of Dorset. There is signposting close to the village but it is minimal and easily missed. Even a GPS will only put you in the general location. It is not served by public transport. Open most weekends and public holidays, though it is best to check by calling (44)-1929-404819 for a recorded message giving current information. Parking is free though a donation of 2 pounds is suggested. There is no shop, toilets or visitor center.
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